


Wilderness Survival + Family

by impossiblepluto



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e13 Wilderness + Training + Survival, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016) are Siblings, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 12:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17622113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: A few missing scenes and an extended ending for 3x13 Wilderness + Training + Survival. An opportunity for some additional family + comfort + fluff





	Wilderness Survival + Family

**Author's Note:**

> (wanted to post this before 3x14 comes and destroys us all) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it!

Jack's fingers pluck absently at the strings of his guitar. It had been sitting, abandoned in the corner of Mac's living room for months, before he picked it up this morning in an attempt to distract himself. He has a lot on his mind, not the least of which is worry about sending Mac, Riley and Bozer off into the wilds, alone. Without him.

Mac knows what he's doing. He's been taking camping trips like this since he was twelve. Longer actually, because Jack's remembering stories Mac's told about James taking him out for survival training in the woods, when all Mac was hoping for was a camping trip and time spent with his father. So he's more than capable to lead this trip, without Jack.

It's just that Jack's been along on every single trip but one. And he woke this morning with a growing sense of unease in his belly. He tries to chalk it up to unresolved tension, left over from their disastrous road trip a few weeks ago, but the feeling doesn't subside.

Mac doesn't seem perturbed by the thought that Jack won't be there. But Mac's never been one to go with his gut.

For about the last hour he's been watching Mac review maps and field guides, though Jack is sure he doesn't need a refresher. The kid's like a sponge, with an eidetic memory.

Jack's pretending he came over here this morning purely to sit in the living room and play his guitar, and so far Mac doesn't seem to find that too unbelievable.

"You sure you don't want me to come along?" Jack asks, finally breaking the comfortable silence. Well, not silence, there are still notes from the guitar, and the voice of a meteorologist on the television.

Mac looks up from the map, eyebrows raised. "I thought you were helping out Matty with a secret project?"

Jack wants to sigh. Matty coming to him for help feels like the old days. It feels like they're finally putting the CIA firmly behind them, and starting over, and Jack hates to jeopardize that. But if Mac, in anyway, indicates that he wants Jack to be there with him, he'll drop everything and go.

"Yeah," Jack drawls, scratching his beard "But if you thought you needed me there..."

"I think I'm qualified to teach this course by myself. It's not the first time I've done it."

Jack notes that the words come out a touch defensively. He holds up a hand.

"I'm not trying to imply that you can't handle it. I know you usually do most of the educating anyway. I'm mostly there for moral support."

"You're mostly there to bring along contraband," Mac corrects.

Jack chuckles. "Food, Mac. Only you would refer to food as contraband. It's probably why you're so skinny."

"It's not a camping trip. It's survival training," Mac says, folding up the map. "You always spend the week complaining and then say that you're not doing it again."

"Listening to you, Bozer and Riley talk, it feels like you're planning a camping trip. They're both excited. I know you always enjoy living off the land and showing off your skills, but you even sound more excited than normal."

"Are you feeling left out?" Mac asks. He can't help the start of a smile that's twitching on his lips.

"Maybe a little," Jack confesses as he examines his feelings. Maybe that pit in his stomach isn't anxiety. Maybe it's old fashioned envy. With a sprinkling of disappointment. "It feels like I'm sending my kids off on a family vacation, and I've gotta stay home and work."

"Jack, we're going to spend the first two days eating cattails."

"Oh, yep, there it is," Jack shudders. "I remember why I hate doing those trips."

"Cattails aren't that bad."

"Sure, one or two, or even twenty. Not two hundred a day."

"Two hundred forty," Mac corrects absentmindedly as he looks over the clothes he's selected for himself and his teammates.

"They have no idea what's coming, do they?"

Mac can't help breaking into a full smile. "Not a clue. Bozer packed a cooler. He's planning on s'mores."

"And you're not going to warn him. You're gonna drive all the way there with an empty cooler," Jack says, familiar with Mac's methods. "That's cold man. Give the man his s'mores."

"I promise I'll make it up to him when we get back."

"Poor, innocent Bozer," Jack laughs. "You gonna stop by Fred's?"

"Would it be survival training if we didn't stop by Freddie's?"

"You've really got a devious side that comes out when you do these courses," Jack says. Yes, he decides, it could definitely be jealousy that's clouding his thinking.

"Oh, like you don't oversell it every time we go. You had Lucroy and Jamison about two seconds from taking old Fred down and searching his house for body parts," Mac laughs at the memory.

"Bozer is gonna regret all those horror movies he's been watching lately. And Riley... oh Mac, take a picture of her expression?" Jack begs.

"I'll tell you everything when we get back," Mac promises.

"I'm gonna hold you to that. You better sear that into your memory because I want details so rich it'll feel like I was there."

"There's still room in the jeep if you change your mind," Mac offers.

"Of course, there's room in the jeep. You're not bringing anything with you."

Jack watches Mac organize the meager supplies he will actually be taking with them. His complaints about Mac's intense immersion training are mostly for show. And sure, he could quite happily go the rest of his life and never eat another cattail, but taking these trips with Mac is always fun, an adventure. They've been running these trips for years, and Jack's only ever missed one of them. Ever.

He feels disappointed that this is the next one he's going to miss, when it's his team out in the woods, not strangers. Sure, it's not camping, but it's still a time filled with team bonding. There's something about being out in the woods, under the stars that draws people together.

And there's a little something inside of him, telling him to soak up all those moments he can. He brushes that thought aside.

Because Matty asked for his help. And Ethan used to be a friend.

* * *

Mac swallows a grunt as the sled bumps over a particularly rocky patch of ground. His right hand grips the branches that make up the frame. Slivers of bark biting into his palm. His left hand reaching out to steady himself as well, stopping abruptly as blistered flesh brushes against the rough wood. He pulls his hand back, fingers curled loosely but hand tight against his chest. Breathing through the pain. Somehow, he's forgotten just how much burns hurt. He's certainly getting a reminder now.

The swaying motion of the sled makes him nauseated. Watching the sky and tops of trees pass overhead makes the feeling worse, so he closes his eyes.

His leg is still bleeding. Sluggishly, but he can feel it ooze past the bandage, soaking his water resistant pants, and running down his leg. At least the material is drying quickly.

He's lost in thought about the molecular structure of a blood-wicking material when they hit another rough patch of ground, and this time he can't hold back the gasp of pain as his leg jostles.

The sled slows. The branches of a pine sapling brush against his face.

"You okay, Mac?" Riley's voice full of concern after hearing his outcry.

Mac waves a hand, not trusting his voice at the moment. Focusing on breathing, on not letting the nausea get the best of him.

"Do you need to stop?" Bozer asks. Mac hates how worried they sound.

"No, I'm good if you are," Mac grunts.

He knows, even with his eyes closed and facing the other way that Bozer and Riley are exchanging concerned glances and having a silent conversation about what to do.

"As long as you guys are okay, we should keep going," Mac says, his voice strained. "The only thing that's going to help now is getting me to a doctor."

The forward movement starts up again, their pace just a tick faster than before. He should tell them not to wear themselves out, but he's fairly certain if he opens his mouth right now he will lose the battle he's fighting and be sick. And even the idea of trying to roll over makes his leg spasm.

He bites his lip, just a little too hard, and the cut on the side pulls open. A tangy metallic taste fills his mouth. It's too much. His body reacts on autopilot and he's leaning over the edge of the sled and retching.

Cattails are actually worse coming back up.

He feels the sled shake, and a warm body press up behind him. Gentle hands supporting him, brushing against his forehead, and carding through his hair. It's a familiar, comforting motion, but at the same time, so different than what he's used to, because these hands are small, delicate, no callouses on the trigger finger.

He's dimly aware of Riley's voice in his ear. He leans back again, wiping his mouth. He's clammy and shaking and probably going into shock. Riley's hand still in his hair.

"Mac, take a little water," Riley helps him lift his head and hold the canteen.

He gratefully accepts the water, rinsing the bitter, acidic taste from his mouth. She tries to get him to take another sip. He shakes his head.

"You need to stay hydrated," Riley tells him.

"Yeah, man, you sprung a leak, gotta replace some of the volume," Bozer encourages.

"Maybe later," Mac replies. "You guys need it." He feels guilty taking the water from his friends. They had to rescue him. Now they're pulling him out of here, exerting themselves. He won't let himself steal water from them, not if he can help it. They need it more than he does.

"He's really pale," Riley says, looking up at Bozer. She bites her lip.

"He's always pale," Bozer tries to joke, a coping mechanism, but it falls flat. "His leg's bleeding again."

Mac feels Bozer's hands on his leg, and he chokes off a cry of pain. His eyes squeeze tightly shut.

"Just, leave it, Boze. We don't have anything else to use to pack it." Mac instructs between shuddering breaths.

Bozer is about a second away from taking off the rest of his outerwear to use as a dressing, when Mac speaks.

"No, keep that on. You need to conserve body heat. Can't waste extra calories on keeping yourself warm. You'd need to eat way more cattails then." He's trying to make the jokes now, but breaks off with a groan. Mac wishes he could do more to reassure his friends. He can hear them conversing in hushed tones. It isn't long before they're underway again. He holds his breath between jarring bumps and muscle spasms.

* * *

It's getting colder.

It takes Riley a while to realize it, because the exertion of pulling the sled keeps her warm.

It might be denial too. Because it means the sun is going down. It was a two day hike in, and while Mac stopped them often along the way for teaching moments, she knew deep down they couldn't possibly make it back to Fred's in the few hours before the sunset.

She glances over her shoulder at Mac. He's been quiet for a while. Riley hopes he's sleeping, but she could use some reassurances from him right about now. She faces forward again, pressing on. The sun is at their backs, still warming her, but it won't be long until it disappears.

They need to stop soon. They can't risk continuing in the dark, not with the terrain so uneven, and rocky bluffs where they could walk right over the edge.

Everything in her wants to keep walking, even another mile or two. To get even a few steps closer to help, but she can hear Mac's voice in her head, telling her they need to stop before it gets dark. They need enough time to set up a camp.

Her hand reaches out and brushes against Bozer. "We need to be looking for a place to spend the night."

Bozer looks back at Mac and the setting sun. "Don't know why I thought we could make it all the way back today. It's like when you try to watch an hour long episode in twenty minutes. It's never gonna work, but you still try anyway, because maybe this time you can, if you can get time to bend to your will."

Riley laughs. "I'm glad you're here, Bozer."

"I'm not," he says, his voice discouraged. "I mean, I'm glad you're not alone out here. But I think you'd be better off with Jack."

"Oh I don't know. I mean, maybe he knows more about wilderness survival, but you and I make a pretty good team."

"Mac would be better off if Jack were here."

Neither of them can argue with that.

Mac, in general, does better when Jack is around. They joke about co-dependency, but Jack has a way of righting everything in Mac's world, and vice versa.

Mac, when he's injured, does exceptionally better when Jack's around. It's like he can give up control and let Jack take over. His brain keeps him from relaxing, ever on high alert, always cycling through worst case scenarios, but when Jack is there Mac can turn those responsibilities over to him.

Riley knows it took a lot out of him to talk them through providing first aid. She knows that even injured like he is, he feels an obligation to keep her and Bozer safe. And she knows he's not going to find much rest until they're back at the Phoenix and Jack is at his side.

They keep walking, far enough to find a campsite that would make Mac proud; prove that they absorbed the knowledge he imparted. After building a lean to, and starting a roaring fire, they help Mac off the sled, scooting him close to the fire.

Riley can't help but notice the fine tremors running through Mac. She puts an arm around him and pulls him close, hoping to share some of her body heat.

Mac smiles at her. "You guys did good," another shiver runs through him.

Her hand brushes against his forehead. "Are you feverish?"

Mac, on instinct, shifts back from the touch, biting back a gasp at the movement.

"Probably," he says, breathing through the pain. "I know fevers are kind of scary, but I'm pretty sure it's low grade right now, so we'll just let it run it's course. If it gets too high we can find an aspen tree in the morning. How are you guys doing?"

"We're fine, don't worry about us," Riley quickly says, brushing off his concerns.

"Sorry about the way this turned out," Mac's voice is quiet, and Riley can tell that he's taking on the guilt and responsibility of what happened.

"Yeah, because you're omniscient and totally knew there were going to be armed bank robbing murderers in the woods, in the exact area we were." She's trying to think of what Jack would say to help Mac get out of his head and relieve his overworked sense of guilt. Jack probably wouldn't say omniscient, but she thinks she gets the point across. She can see Mac's soft smile in the fire's glow.

"Come on," she says, pulling Mac's head to rest on her shoulder. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's not going to be any easier."

"You sounds like Jack."

"Hey," she protests with a smile, secretly pleased. "Be nice! My pep talks are way better than Jack's."

* * *

Jack twists his head from one side to the other, trying to loosen the crick in his neck. They're only a few hours from home, and everything in him wants to just power through the rest of the way, but the muscles in his lower back are protesting. He'll have to think about finding a rest stop soon.

He's spent too long in the car the last few days. He's feeling restless. Anxious.

When the phone buzzes, Jack thinks for a second he's getting another message... threat... text, before he realizes it's Matty's phone.

Matty's jaw tightens for a second when she sees the ID on the screen. The conversation is short. Aside from answering, and asking where the caller is she doesn't say anything else before ending the call. But Jack can see the tension in her face, her shoulders.

"Matty..."

She gives a single shake of her head and holds up a finger to silence him while she makes another call. "This is Director Weber, I need an immediate medevac sent to Agent MacGyver's location." Her eyes dart to look at Jack as she says the last part.

During one of Jack's first missions, he was one of six passengers on a little puddlejumper plane when a drug cartel attempted to shoot them out of the sky. There was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness as they lost altitude. It felt like the plane had been ripped out from around him and he was floundering fourteen thousand feet in the air. What he feels now is worse than that.

His team is out in the wilderness with no supplies, calling for help and he's not there. And there's no way for him to get there quickly enough to render aid. He should have known this tension that's been rumbling through his guts had nothing to do with envy or disappointment, or even being in the car too long. He should have recognized this feeling of dread. He never should have let his team head out alone.

"Jack. Jack!" Matty's hand grips his arm tightly. "You're pale. Do you need to pull over?"

Jack shakes his head. His knuckles turning white as his hands clench the steering wheel.

"Who? Riley? Bozer?" He asks, but somehow he already knows.

It's not that he'd prefer Riley or Bozer to be hurt. But Mac's been leading survival training courses for years. He's actually survived multiple missions stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on his back and his SAK. So, for the whole team's sake, better for Mac to still be on his feet. But, of course, it would never be that simple.

"It's Mac," Matty answers slowly, reluctantly. Her hand curls tightly around the phone in her lap. "I don't have a lot of details but it sounds serious."

Jack takes a deep breath. "Serious enough that he would call for help." Jack pauses, noticing the look on Matty's face. "He did call for help."

"Bozer made the call."

Jack's hand strikes the steering wheel. His brain is already filling with worst case scenarios.

"You don't know that it's because Mac couldn't," Matty argues. "Bozer is chatty."

"But Mac would have called me." They both know he's right.

"The medics will call when they've assessed the situation. They'll let us know where they're taking him."

Jack nods, his eyes never leaving the road. His foot pressing a little firmer on the gas pedal.

"If they're taking him anywhere but back to Phoenix I will have the fastest transport available on standby to take you to him."

* * *

By some miracle, and he is going to owe Matty for powering through the rest of the drive without stopping, he is pulling into the Phoenix parking structure when he sees the medevac helicopter landing on the roof.

Looking back, he's not sure if he parked the car, or if he just jumped out and ran inside. He's mostly certain that he at least put it in park.

Jack sprints into the building, heading for medical. He catches the briefest glimpse of blond hair on a gurney, at the end of the hall, surrounded by too many people in scrubs, before it's pushed through double doors. He races after it, pulling up short when he sees his two other team mates heading in the same direction.

"Bozer! Riley!" Jack pulls them both into a hug, squeezing tight. He reluctantly releases them, taking a step back, still keeping a hand on each ones' shoulder. His eyes scanning them for any sign of injury.

"You both okay?" He asks. They look exhausted, but mostly in one piece. "Riley, what's wrong with your leg?" He asks noticing the makeshift bloody bandage and the way she favors the limb.

"It's fine, just a scratch," Riley says. "Mac needs you more than I do."

"Bozer, make sure she gets looked at. Don't let her pull a Mac," Jack says, entrusting Riley into his care, knowing that of all of them, Bozer is the one he least has to worry about with regards to getting checked out after a mission.

"Or a Jack," Bozer says trying to lighten the mood.

Jack flashes an unamused look, before taking off down the hall in search of his partner.

He pulls open the door to the only occupied exam room and strides in. Various members of the medical team glance up at the intrusion but ignore him upon recognition. They're an infamous pair around here, and they know better than to try to separate the two.

Jack stands just inside the door. He knows better than to get in the way. It's an arrangement they have. Unless Mac is having a hard time and needs him closer, Jack stands back and lets the medical team work.

It's not always easy for Jack to stay back, especially when he's walking into the situation blind.

He doesn't have a clear view of Mac from this vantage point. Can't see the extent of the damage. A sheet is draped over him to maintain his dignity, but his left leg is uncovered. A bruise on his cheek, a cut on his mouth. Mac's eyes are closed, and Jack hopes it's just exhaustion. Mac lays quietly as a nurse takes his vital signs, starts an IV and draws blood. He doesn't even flinch at the pinch of the needle.

It's not until a doctor starts prodding his leg that his eyes fly open with a cry of pain. It tears at Jack's heart.

Mac's right hand scrambles against the edge of the exam table, fingers splayed as he rides out the wave of pain.

Jack steps forward at this, coming to Mac's side, grasping Mac's hand.

Pain filled eyes look up at him.

"Jack," Mac whispers. "How'd you get here so fast?"

"By the time you got close enough to civilization to call for help, Matty and I were only a few hours from home. I almost beat you here. That's the last time I leave you kids home alone."

Mac smiles. "Riley and Bozer?"

"Still standing, I sent them to get checked out, just to be sure."

Mac breathes a sigh of relief. His eyes slide closed as he rides out another wave of pain.

"I messed up," he says through staccato breaths. "I was supposed to be there for them."

"It sounds like you were," Jack interrupts. "They tracked you. Took out an armed baddie, provided first aid, built a litter, set up camp and navigated their way out of the woods. And after only one day of survival camp."

Jack can still see the doubt in Mac's eyes.

"You taught them all the survival skills they needed and then some. You trying to put me out of a job?"

"Never," Mac says seriously, gripping Jack's hand tighter.

Jack blinks at the sudden wave of emotion.

"Damn right," he growls to hide what he's sure would otherwise be a crack in his voice.

"Mac," the doctor interrupts. "We're going get you prepped for surgery. We need to clean out that bullet wound in your leg and debride that hand."

Mac nods.

Jack, for the first time, notices the blistered, blackened skin on Mac's left hand. It steals Jack's breath. He's suddenly flashing back to another set of burned hands.

Hands that rescued him, with no thought to Mac's own wellbeing. Reaching through the flames, into the mouth of hell itself to rescue his partner.

And the months that followed. The debridements of the burns. The IV fluids to maintain hydration. The low grade fevers Mac had trouble shaking. The dressing changes, completed several times a day that Jack learned how to do so the kid could go home. The frequent doctor's appointments and follow ups. The pain Mac was in throughout the whole ordeal, but especially as new flesh formed on the still healing wounds.

The helplessness Mac felt, his frustration and nearly total reliance on Jack, and Bozer and even Riley for weeks before he could start to use his hands again.

All because Mac prioritized his partner over his own safety.

It breaks Jack's heart, the idea of Mac going through all of that again. He examines the hand the he holds in his own.

"It's just the left one, Jack," Mac whispers, seeing the pain in Jack's eyes. "It's not as bad as last year."

"Better not be," he growls again. He knows Mac sees through his tough guy attempts.

"He's right," the doctor agrees with Mac. "We're concerned about infection, especially with the delay in treatment, but I don't think Mac's looking at nearly as long a recovery time."

Jack nods, digesting the information, making plans for the upcoming weeks.

"New rule kid, no more playing with fire."

Mac smiles. "That's like a big portion of my job."

"Once you heal up a little we're going to review some basic fire safety rules," Jack says. "The biggest one is don't stick your hands in fire."

* * *

It's late, or early, when Mac is settled into a room. The doctor assures Jack that the surgery went smoothly but also informs him that Mac is still rocking a fever and a fairly serious case of dehydration. He's going to be the reluctant guest of Phoenix medical for at least several days.

Mac's asleep when Jack enters the room. The moonlight hits his face. He's so pale, even against the white sheets.

Thick bandages wrap around Mac's leg. He's going to have a matching scar on each thigh. Shot and stabbed.

Jack's going to handcuff himself to Mac in the future. It'll be more of a symbolic, dramatic gesture than anything else, because Mac can easily slip or pick the cuffs, but Jack thinks it will make his point. No more separate missions, not as long as he can help it. His mission is to protect Mac.

And he can't help feeling guilty that he wasn't there for Mac in the wilderness. So he's planning to stay here all night.

But then, he looks up and sees Bozer and Riley, who insist on staying as well, despite their fatigue. Exhaustion written on their faces. Bozer blinks slowly, and his head starts to bob. Riley is frowning, hard. She rubs a hand across her eyes.

Jack stands up. Mac taught them what they needed to know to survive in the wilderness. Now Jack needs to teach them how to care for themselves once they're home. It's a lesson he's still teaching Mac. One he's still teaching himself some days. How to let go of a mission gone bad.

He nudges Bozer's shoulder, and the man jumps a foot, bumping Riley and jerking her out of her stupor.

"Come on, kids, lets go home."

They look up at Jack in surprise and start to protest.

"Hey, you guys did good. Really good. I'm proud of you," there might be tears in his eyes, but the room is dark and Jack will deny it. "But now you guys need some real food and some real sleep, in a bed. Not on pine needles, not in one of these chairs."

Jack can see that they're still reluctant to leave.

"Besides, once he wakes up we're all gonna be on Mac duty. Because you know he's going to be clamoring to leave, and over doing it with his hand. 'It's just a bullet hole and a burn, Jack,'" he does a terrible Mac impression.

Riley laughs, but it chokes off with a strangled half sob.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Jack says, pulling her from the chair and into a hug. "He's gonna be fine."

"I know," she says, her voice muffled against his chest. "I think it's all just hitting me now."

Jack squeezes her tightly, cradling the back of her head.

A quiet sniff catches his attention, and Jack releases one arm from Riley to pull Bozer into their group hug.

As he holds onto Riley and Bozer, he steals a glance over at Mac.

Eight years ago, he'd given up on any dream of being a father, or having a family of his own. Now he can't help but feel a sense of awe. This is not, in anyway, anything he could have expected or imagined, but he loves these people more than he ever thought possible He would do, will do, anything to keep them safe.

* * *

 

"I know that you get excited about this wilderness training stuff, hoss, but you didn't have to go all out like that. We could have simulated the field medicine lessons," Jack teases as he walks into Mac's hospital room the next morning. Bozer and Riley following closely behind.

Mac is propped up in the bed. His leg elevated on a pillow. His left hand heavily wrapped in gauze laying on his lap. Pink cheeks, lightly flushed with a fever. His eyes glazed, but he smiles at his team.

"Guess I'm an over achiever."

"Angus MacGyver an over achiever? No." Jack says sarcastically but smiles as he drops into the chair next to Mac's bed. He reaches over and lays a hand on Mac's forehead.

"Everyone already knows I have a fever, Jack. You don't need to do that," but he doesn't pull back from his partner's touch, simply allows Jack's hand to rest there.

Jack eventually, reluctantly, pulls his hand away.

"You eat anything yet?"

"Just broth, a little jello," Mac wrinkles his nose in distaste. "If I'm lucky maybe I can work my way up to solids by tonight."

Jack nods sympathetically, all too well aware of the usual slow progression of diet after surgery, and Mac's body's, particularly his belly's, dislike of anesthesia.

"No more cattails?" Bozer asks.

Mac can't help a grimace. "Not for... a long time."

"Darn, I found a couple of recipes that really looked promising, even a bread for you to practice your baking skills. You had to crush acorns to make a flour, but even that sounds right up your alley."

Mac laughs, then turns serious. "Bozer, Riley, I wanted to thank you. Everything that happened after I got shot is a little fuzzy, but I remember enough to know that I owe you."

"You don't owe us anything," Riley says, putting a hand on Mac's arm to stop him. "We're family. We take care of each other."

Jack's heart feels like it might burst at Riley's words.

"I was suppose to keep you guys safe. Teach you survival skills and I disappear after the first day..."

"Like Jack said," Bozer interrupts. "You didn't really need to go that hard. I thought we were picking up the skills just fine from listening to you lecture."

"Maybe he was testing out different learning styles?" Riley suggests.

"Maybe he should try the learning style where we get to eat s'mores at night," Bozer counters.

"You have a fireplace in your living room and a fire pit on your deck," Riley says. "You could have s'mores every night if you wanted."

"Did you ever hear about how Mac tried to build this marshmallow roaster once?" Bozer asks with a smile.

Mac's eyes widen at the story he knows Bozer's going to tell. "Bozer, no."

"It was like this self-turning stick that was supposed to toast them evenly. Only it didn't."

"Bozer, we were like eight," Mac protests.

"It got too hot, and started spinning too fast and threw flaming marshmallows all over," Bozer laughs hard enough at the memory that tears are streaming down his face. "People were screaming, tents and chairs were on fire."

"Is that how he got kicked out of the boy scouts?" Riley asks, she's laughing too.

"No!" Mac says firmly. "And I quit the boy scouts."

"Nope!" Bozer affirms. "It's not even how he burned down the football stadium."

Jack settles back in his chair. He can't help but smile as Riley and Bozer tease Mac, like older siblings with a younger brother.

His kids are here, together. They're safe, and... in Mac's case on their way to being healthy.

For the moment, everything is right in Jack's world.


End file.
